


What You're Giving

by Ange_de_la_Mort



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Scent Kink, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort
Summary: Raihan has been in love with Kabu for as long as he remembers. Instead of acting on it, however, he keeps everything to himself. Maybe he just needs a push in the right direction - one that comes in the form of an online purchase.
Relationships: Kabu/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 119





	What You're Giving

He would like to claim that all of this just happens spontaneously, a result of one of the outstandingly stupid ideas people have when they are high and/or drunk. But Raihan is neither. And Raihan has thought about this for a long time. Far longer than he would ever admit. 

For a moment, his index finger still hovers over the button, and he even reaches that brief moment of self-assessment to wonder if he _really_ is pathetic enough to do what he's about to do...and then his fingertip lands on his phone display, and the words "The Motostoke Uniform Shop thanks you for your purchase" appear.

Yeah.

Yeah, obviously he _is_ just that pathetic.

____

Two days later, his Rotom Phone beeps with a notification that he can pick up the package at the mailbox he has rented for fan mail. _Well, that was fast_ , he thinks with a crooked smile as he stares at the display which is almost mocking him with its cheerful font. A hoarse laugh spills over his lips as he realizes that a blush is creeping up his face, despite the fact that he hasn't actually done anything yet. But even if he were to do something, that would be all right, wouldn't it? It would be just his little secret, his personal business in the privacy of his home, no one would have to know. No one would have a right to judge him just because he ordered a copy of Kabu's uniform, with the firm intention of defiling it totally and relentlessly.

... when he puts it that way, it sounds wrong even in his thoughts.

He drags his free hand down his face and puts the phone back in his pocket.

Hopefully neither the postman nor the employee who packed the uniform recognized the mailbox. Otherwise the next few days on social media would be full of stupid innuendos and rumors, and the last thing he needs now is for Kabu to find out about his purchase by some stupid coincidence that might cause him to misunderstand the whole thing.

Not that Kabu ever comes online, but his gym trainers do, Raihan knows that only too well, because he's looked at every one of their damn selfies taken in the gym and looked for Kabu, hoping to see one of his rare smiles, one of those that he actually only grants to children, Pokémon and just about everyone who isn't Raihan, which makes the smile less rare again, at least in theory, but since Raihan hardly ever sees it, he can call it that, can't he? Can't he?

He could kick himself for thinking about it so much. He's just absolutely pathetic. But unfortunately, he is also head over heels in love, in an intensity he last experienced as a teenager, and that's just ... embarrassing. 

So now, whether he likes it or not, he already knows he's gonna be flushed red in the face when he goes to pick up his damn package.

____

The small bottle of cologne weighs heavy in his hand. It's made out of dark blue transparent glass with ornate white writing and the word "Water" in the name - _that's probably the crux of the whole thing_ , Raihan thinks not for the first time. After all, Kabu is a fire trainer. It's probably this contrast that made the whole advertising campaign so successful back then.

Raihan doesn't like to admit it, but he watched the clip so often as a teenager that not only does he still get it suggested to him every time he opens the Pokétube homepage, but he even knows the first twenty seconds of it by heart: It starts with a man on a motorcycle, his face covered by his helmet, driving along a mountain road parallel to the coast, the focus of the shot on the vast ocean beneath him. Then he takes off his helmet, and of course it's Kabu, albeit with a few wrinkles less than these days and his hair still completely black, who looks out across the huge, endless ocean beneath him and then tilts his head a little to one side. His hair is ruffled by a light breeze, a smile tugs on his lips as he looks like he's at peace with himself and the world at large. 

And then - and this is a very important detail, one that made Raihan find out for the first time ever what a libido is and how short a refractory period can be - he takes off his shirt, the muscles rippling under his skin. 

If Raihan is honest with himself, he would now admit that he actually doesn't know how the commercial continues at all, because he only watched these few seconds over and over again.

Maybe he might even ask Kabu about it some day. If he should ever find the courage to do so.

But now he first has to find the courage to do completely different things. Slowly he puts the perfume bottle aside and instead takes the square package in his hand and gently shakes it. _... why the hell am I doing that?_ he wonders and shakes his head over himself. He already knows what's inside. It's not as if he was still a little boy who secretly crept up to the tree the night before Christmas and shook the wrappings of his presents to guess what it might be from the sound of the contents ... 

He forces himself to breathe deeply as he cuts the tape around the package with scissors and turns the box over so that the contents fall onto his bed where they spread out in a stream of red and white fabric. He places the empty box in front of him and then, with hesitant fingers, reaches for the clothes. 

The first thing he gets hold of is ... socks. Socks? Seriously? Well, he really doesn't need them, so back in the box with them. Same with the shorts, he has no use for them. 

Just as he's about to put them back in the box, something slips out of one leg of the shorts, something which, on closer inspection, turns out to be a small envelope. Raihan squints and furrows his brows, then grabs and opens it. 

The envelope contains exactly two things: a folded piece of paper with the invoice and a little thank you note to the happy buyer ("May this uniform set your spirit ablaze and make you burn bright!") and ... oh. Oh, no. 

It's one of Kabu's league cards. Raihan holds it in his hand and turns it over. It almost seems to him as if the matte finish on the card makes Kabu's features change and he no longer looks motivated but judgmental. As if he knew what Raihan was up to. As if it disgusted him.

In a rush Raihan also throws the card and the stupid envelope back into the box and massages his temples. _For fuck's sake, Raihan_ , he tells himself in silence, _get a grip, man! Kabu has no idea! He doesn't know, he'll never know, it's okay!_

And that's the truth. Well, maybe not the part about it being okay, but the part about Kabu not knowing that Raihan has had a crush on him for ages, one that has only worsened ever since they first became colleagues and then friends.

He doesn't know. And he will never know either, because Raihan simply lacks the courage to go and tell him. Even though it would be so easy. It's just three little words. _I like you._ Well, granted, technically it's a lot of words, but _I like you and maybe I love you, but mostly I want you to fuck the everloving shit out of me_ probably wouldn't go over too well with his first honest flirtation attempt. 

If he ever actually started flirting. Which he doesn't dare.

Instead he simply sits here and buries his fingers in the fabric of a copy of Kabu's uniform shirt and sighs faintly and perhaps also somewhat disappointed. It feels so... new. Not worn. Not used. It doesn't feel the way Kabu would feel like if Raihan would put his arms around him. 

And yet this is all he has ... 

With a gentle sigh, he opens the bottle of cologne and sprinkles a few drops onto the shirt, applying them as evenly as he can, without having considered that this will immediately make the whole room smell of Kabu and his cologne; heavy and overwhelming and so intense that Raihan's cock twitches in his pants. _For real? What the fuck, Raihan, pull yourself together!_

He bites his lower lip and looks at the shirt for a few long moments, tracing the logo with his fingertips. This is the way the fabric would feel beneath his fingers if he brushed his hands over Kabu's chest as he grabbed the hem of his shirt to take it off. This is exactly ... 

He can't help but image Kabu's expression, and in his overwhelmed mind, Kabu's facial expression changes from surprised and excited to judging and annoyed, just as he thought he saw it on his league card. Raihan curses quietly and hurriedly shakes his head to chase the image away. Damn it! Why can't he just whip his dick out like a normal person and jerk off to the thought of Kabu? Why does he have to be so complicated and chase some stupid teenage fantasy? Why does he have to get obsessed with Kabu out of all people, anyway, why not with Leon or Piers or Nessa?

Why does he feel so terribly lonely, sitting here on his bed? A miserable, hopeless mess that doesn't even dare to do anything ... 

He swallows down the bile that threatens to rise in his throat, and then he finally gets up to put the shirt on a clothes hanger. Maybe it'll be better if he first lets the cologne soak into the fabric so that the scent can fade away a little. After all, it' s not like he's usually right there when Kabu uses cologne to sniff at him like a lovesick yamper. So it's no wonder that the fragrance is still sharp and suffocating at the moment.

Unwilling to fill his entire wardrobe with Kabu's smell, he follows an impulse and opens the door to the small balcony adjoining his bedroom in order to hang the shirt outside.

... at least he doesn't have to stare at it all the time when it's out there.

____

 _It's staring at him. It's judging him._ And even as he turns around in his bed with his back to the balcony door, he just can't forget that the damn shirt is hanging out there and that the logo, which is so reminiscent of Kabu's Centiskorch's face, is watching him. And has been for hours.

Raihan grits his teeth and curses himself for the whole idea. Couldn't he have just sprayed a little cologne on his pillow and then jerked off like any normal person? ... no, he couldn't have, because then he'd never be able to sleep again, because he'd imagine that his pillow would still smell of Kabu even after he'd washed it a hundred times. 

In frustration he turns onto his back and stares at the ceiling. Out of the corner of his eyes, the shirt keeps _staring_ at him, just like Kabu's Centiskorch would stare at him if it knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck its owner. It would be absolutely displeased with it, irritated. Maybe even jealous. 

Finally Raihan turns his gaze to the balcony door and _stares_ at the shirt. _You know what?_ , he thinks. _It's time to assert my dominance._

No sooner said than done. Thus he fetches the shirt from the balcony to his bedroom and looks at it for quite a while, feeling the light fabric between his fingers - no wonder Kabu is still wearing a long-sleeved undershirt, too, with just that thin fabric on his skin, he's certainly freezing - and then, after a short hesitation, holds it close to his face, inhaling deeply.

... oh.

He lets himself sink back onto the bed and closes his eyes, sniffs at the shirt again. The scent of the cologne still sticks very strongly to it, but now it smells a bit more natural, a bit _more real_.

_If I buried my nose in the crook of his neck, he'd smell just like this._

That the thought makes him shiver doesn't come as a surprise to Raihan, for after all, he has taken up all this work just so that he can finally stop masturbating to his little fantasies and instead allow them to turn into something more vivid. The whole time during the last weeks and months he has often - _yeah no, be honest with yourself, Raihan, it's not often, it's always_ \- thought of Kabu when he touched himself. Of the way Kabu would shove him face first into the pillow and take him from behind, his body nestled tightly against Raihan's back, his fingers digging into Raihan's sides and hips, leaving possessive marks. Or the way he would kneel down before Kabu and open his pants, gently freeing his dick from its clothed prison to wrap his lips around the head while Kabu gasps above him, gripping on his hair.

But now that he can _smell_ Kabu so intensely, all he can think about is waking up next to him in the morning. Kabu would sleepily smile and breathe a kiss on his cheek or forehead, while Raihan would snuggle up close to him and trace every bit of Kabu's chest with his fingertips. 

Raihan rolls over to his side and slides one hand into his boxer shorts, the light fabric of the shirt still pressed tightly against his face and nose. His hand curls around the length of his half-hard dick and he gives it a few gentle, almost lazy strokes, just the kind of touches he'd receive from a sleepy Kabu. _Yeah_ , he thinks mindlessly and shivers as his dick hardens under his touches, as he imagines Kabu's lips twitch with laughter and _love_ , oh Arceus, yes, Kabu would look at him with so much adoration in his eyes just like he always looks at his damn Pokémon. But now it's not _them_ who get his attention, it's _him_ and only _him_ who gets looked at like the most important thing in the world.

Kabu would thumb the head of his cock - _y-yeah, just like that_ \- and brush over his slit before pulling the foreskin back to tease him in earnest.

Raihan grits his teeth, his hand working faster at the thought of sleepy, gentle Kabu telling him he had a wonderful night - of course they'd have fucked all night, of course Raihan would have screamed and sobbed his name at least a bazillion times - and going on to tell him that they'd be able to do this every day from now on, that they could wake up next to each other every morning. 

Kabu would tell him he loves him.

Raihan _sobs_ into the fabric, his hips twitching. There would be nights where he'd spoon Kabu from behind, nestle his cheek against his hair and fall asleep with his smell filling every inch of his being. He could wake up in the mornings with Kabu still quietly snoring in his arms - and yes, he really thinks Kabu would snore, the soft and quiet sound would be adorable. Raihan could grind his dick against Kabu's ass and slide his hands under Kabu's shirt - because of course he would wear a shirt, Kabu pings him as the kind of guy to wear pyjamas - to rub and pinch his nipples until Kabu moans in his sleep, until he stirs and wakes, eyelashes fluttering and breath hitching. 

He'd chuckle, his voice still a little unfocused, and rub his ass against Raihan's dick. "Again?"

_Yes. Yes, again. Please. Every day, every night. For the rest of my fucking life, just ... just ...  
_

Raihan comes with a shout and his back arches off the covers, sticky liquid dripping off his hand and onto the sheets. It takes him a few moments to catch his breath, chest raising and falling heavily, until he yanks the fabric away from his face and shoves it down to the floor and out of his sight.

With a sigh, he rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. He doesn't have to look at the shirt to know that the stupid logo of Kabu's gym would look back at him mockingly.

And he knows he would agree with it this time.

Because he really is that fucking pathetic.


End file.
